Mein Kleiner Vogel
by venomoxide
Summary: Prussia bursts through Canadas door, declaring that he wishes to seize Americas vital regions. Only problem, for the thousandth time, Canada is not. America. Lemons, PrussiaxCanada, Yaoi.
1. For The Love Of Maple

**So, this is my first Hetalia fanfiction. Yay~! I've loved the series for a looooong time but just recently fell in love with Prussia. Kesese....  
Uh, anyways, I digress.**

Warnings - Yaoi. BoyxBoy. There will be lemon. There will be lime. There will be swearing, most often in other languages.

Pairing - PrussiaxCanada FTW.

Blowing his curl out of his face, Matthew stirred the bowl of pancake mix he was holding with surprising ease. Kumajiro sat on his shoulders, watching with a bored expression as his owner (whose name he couldn't quite recall) continued with making their breakfast.

This was a common occurrence in Canada's house; every day the country would wake up in the morning and cook a huge serving of pancakes for him and his polar bear. Setting the bowl down, Matthew looked up at Kumajiro, sighing softly. He felt even more alone than usual. For some reason, he wanted another person to enjoy his cooking and perhaps even remember his name.  
"Eh, Kumajiro," he mumbled, closing his violet eyes as he gently reached up and pulled the bear off his shoulders and into his arms. "Why does no one see me? I try to be noticed..."

The bear stared blankly up at him, blinking a few times before replying, "Who are you?"  
Despite himself, Canada smiled. It was so like Kumajiro to forget him, especially at a time like this. Patting the bears head, he brushed aside his feelings of self pity, not wanting to ruin the day completely and continued to make his pancakes.  
After he had the pancakes cooking on the stove, he relaxed a bit, the smell making his feelings of loneliness fade away with the scent of his favourite food. He began to think of trivial things that most nations would not stop to think about. Things like nature, hockey, maple syrup.... Mmm, maple syrup.

A knock at his door pulled the blond nation from his thoughts and he dropped his spatula, surprised that someone came to visit. Trying to catch the dammed utensil, he burnt his finger on the stove, eliciting a small shriek.  
"_Merde_!" he cried, immediately shoving the assaulted finger in his mouth, feeling tears well up as his skin reacted to the burn. Another knock reminded him why he had dropped the spatula in the first place. Forcing himself to stop crying, he grabbed Kumajiro, hugging him tightly to his chest before padding over to his door. With a small sigh, he pulled his finger from his mouth and opened the door just a crack, looking for whoever might be there.  
"H-hello?" He mumbled, his voice almost as light and airy as the wind that blew in from outside.

Before he knew what had happened, the door flew open, knocking him down to the floor in a flurry of wind, snowflakes and a blue uniform. Kumajiro flew beside him, lying there completely confused.  
"Kesesese... I'm here to conquer your empire, America! Surrender now and you may just be shown mercy from the awesome me!"  
Rubbing his head, Canada could barely make out the figure in front of him, screaming something about conquering his brother. His glasses had fallen off when the door knocked him over, making everything a blurry blob.

"I'm not America, I'm Canada..." He sighed, barely heard by the unidentified nation as the wind continued to blow in through the open doorway. He fumbled around for his glasses, patting the floor frantically. He never liked not being able to see everything clearly – it made him feel completely disconnected from the world. Finally, he found them and hastily put them back on, blinking a few times.

Raising his gaze, Matthew stared at the nation towering in the doorway, still laughing manically to himself. As usual, he had been ignored. Grabbing Kumajiro, he hugged him tightly, deciding to try again. "I said, I'm not America!" His tone was a little louder and his face flushed involuntarily. He did that whenever he regretted saying something too loud.

The intrusive nation stopped laughing, blinking a few times before looking over to Canada, who was sitting on the floor, looking annoyed and embarrassed. "Kesesese... Nice try, arschgeige." He closed the door behind him with his foot, his boot making a loud clunking sound as it reconnected with the floor.  
Matthew looked from Kumajiro back to the nation he had never seen before, suddenly hating the resemblance he showed to his brother.  
"Now," the taller, cocky nation began, leaning down so he was eye level with Canada. "Hand over your land to my awesomeness without a fight and we won't have a problem." He ended the threat with a smile too kind for the words that had just left his lips.

To the other nations obvious surprise, the blonde rolled his eyes, huffing out an annoyed breath of air. "I. Am. Not. America."  
Matthew had had enough of this and wanted nothing more than for this annoying, loud mouthed nation to leave. "I have no idea who you are."

Suddenly, the other straightened, eyes wide with surprise. Whether it was because he realized Canada was indeed not America or because he couldn't believe there was a person in the world who didn't know him, Matthew could not tell.  
"You... Have no idea of how awesome I am?" He marvelled, "Tell me your name and I will share with you the epic stories of Gilbert Bielschmidt, the awesome Prussia!"  
Staring blankly at the proclamation of self-righteousness, Matthew blinked a few times before groaning and letting his face fall onto Kumajiros' head. "I'm... Canada..." he mumbled. "Ca-na-da..." 

* * *

**Translation Notes  
_Merde - _Shit!**


	2. Holy Maple Trees!

**So, same warnings as before. Just wanted to say, yay! Thanks for all the reviews!  
It makes me happier than Russia with unlimited vodka...  
**

"Well, Ca-na-da," Prussia replied, waving his arms in a grand gesture. "Don't be sad any longer, I will tell you all about my awesome and you will become filled with joy! It's a natural reaction to my stories... Sometimes people even cry! And..."  
Matthew sighed, tuning out the nation he had just met. Gilbert. What a strange name. It didn't sound very 'awesome.' Picking himself up from the floor, the blonde nation tried to get the others attention. "Prussia, please... I don't want to hear your stories."

The albino paused, red eyes shifting over to Canada with a quizzical expression. He looked as if he was about to say something but instead, crinkled his nose and sniffed the air, looking disgusted. "What's burning?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  
With a start, Canada remembered his pancakes that he had left cooking on the stove. "_Putain!_" He cried, rushing into his kitchen with the hope of saving his breakfast.  
The taller nation followed curiously, forgetting that the sharing of his awesomeness had been interrupted as he leant against the wall, watching Canada rush around the kitchen with a strange fascination.  
Waving away the smoke with his oven mitts, Canada coughed, in shock that he had actually burnt his pancakes. He always made them perfectly... It was such a sad sight.  
Turning the stove top off, he stayed silent for a few moments, feeling hopeless. "Mother of maple..." he grumbled, poking at the two charred cakes with a fork.

Clearing his throat, Prussia peered at the black lumps in the frying pan. They didn't look very appetizing. "Um, are those supposed to look like burnt piles of charcoal?" GilBird popped up from his hair, chirping a few times as if to wonder the same thing.  
With a look that the albino assumed was supposed to be threatening, Canada's eye twitched in anger. "If you hadn't burst in here and distracted me, they would look like they are supposed to - fluffy and delicious... so, no, they are not supposed to look like this." With a deep sigh, he began to scrape the ruined food into the garbage, trying to get all the blackened pieces off the pan. He would have to start all over again.

Realizing what Canada had said, Gilbert suddenly felt guilty – something he never felt. Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, he watched the other pour a creamy looking mix into a new pan, trying to remember how he would go about apologizing.  
_How should I do this again? Um... Oh, right. _

"Hey, I'm... uh, sorry." Forcing the words from his mouth, he could feel his eye twitching at how unawesome it was to be saying sorry. The nation better accept his apology, or else.  
Looking up from pouring the mix in the pan with a surprised expression, Matthew stayed silent for a moment, not sure if Prussia was serious. It seemed an unlikely thing for such a cocky nation to do.  
"It's okay," he finally replied, looking back down at the blobs he had made, wondering why his cheeks suddenly flushed red. They only did that when he said something too loudly...

An awkward silence filled the air, broken only by the sudden hissing of Canada's pancakes cooking. The smell of smoke quickly dispersed and was replaced with the scent of warmth and cozy feelings. Uncomfortable with the silence, Gilbert spoke his first thought, flopping down into one of the chairs seated around the small dining table. "So, Canada, what's your real name?"  
He had only just realized that the blonde had simply told him what nation he was, not his actual name.

Shocked yet again, Canada tried to brush off his surprise. No one had ever asked what his real name was before... In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had kept a conversation going with another nation for so long. It felt... nice.  
"I'm Matthew. Matthew Williams..." He replied, his voice quiet. Suddenly he felt more timid than usual. Flipping the cakes over, he thought for a few moments before continuing. "I'm Alfreds' brother and we look alike. For some reason everyone mistakes me for him... It can get troublesome, as you so intrusively demonstrated."

Leaning forward, Gilbert frowned as he listened, finding it hard to hear the nations soft voice. It was so different from his own boisterous one. As Matthew explained, he wondered how he had ever mistaken the two. Of course, there were similarities but once he really studied the other nation, it seemed obvious to him that he was not Alfred. The other grew quiet again and he sighed, feeling worse than he had two minutes ago. Not only had he ruined his breakfast, but he also rudely mistook Matthew for someone else.  
_Mien Gott, I'm such an ass. A really unawesome ass._

Suddenly, Matthew was beside him, setting a plate down on the place mat, looking slightly nervous. "Here," the blonde mumbled, sitting down on the other side of the table with his own plate. "I'm not sure how good they will taste but..."

Interrupting him, the Prussian inspected the food on his plate. "What... is this?" He had never seen anything like it before. Experimentally, he poked it, surprised that it was kind of squishy. That made him even more apprehensive.  
A small laugh made him look up, red eyes narrowing. No one laughed at the awesome him without good reason. Before he could complain, Canada was reaching across the table with a glass bottle of golden liquid, pouring a generous amount on his food.  
"They are pancakes with maple syrup... Just try them." Matthew found himself smiling wider than he had in a long time as he watched the albino, already eating his own pancakes.

Deciding that they probably weren't going to kill him, Gilbert took a bite, nose scrunched just in case it tasted horrible. His eyes widened and he stared down at pancakes, mouth open slightly. He could swear Austria was hiding in a corner, playing music to match his happiness. Either that or he had gone insane.  
Looking up at Matthew, he exclaimed, "These are amazing! Completely worthy of the awesome me!" before stuffing half of a whole pancake in his mouth.  
Canada simply shook his head, secretly gleaming inside; he had always wanted someone to share pancakes with... 

* * *

**Translation Notes  
_Putain! - _Fuck!_  
Mein Gott - _My God**


	3. What The Maple?

**So, yeah. I'm obviously pretty involved in this story. I don't think I've ever updated this often... I like it.  
Hopefully it will last, da?  
Um, sorry if it seems kind of odd. But I don't feel like rushing limes/lemons.  
If you guys have any sugestions... Feel free to let me know.**

Almost two hours had passed, bringing the day to mid-afternoon. Still sitting at the table, the remnants of food scattered in front of them were being ignored as the two nations continued to talk. Matthew could hardly believe how long Prussia had been here, conversing with him like they were old friends.  
And to think he would have normally spent the past two hours staring at Kumajiros' eyelashes...

A comfortable silence fell and Kumajiro yawned, signalling that he was ready for his afternoon nap. With a small sigh, Canada stood from his chair, patting his polar bears head lovingly. "Just let me clean up, Kumajiro. Then you can sleep."  
He gathered the dishes, finding that it went quicker than normal. Usually he had leftovers to put away but, instead, Prussia had taken care of those. Turning the water off, Matthew picked up Kumajiro, padding off to put the bear down for a nap.  
As he returned, he was surprised to find his new friend staring at him, amusement obvious on his face. Feeling self-conscious, the blonde stood in the doorway, discreetly checking to make sure he didn't have food on his face or in his teeth. "W-what?" he stammered, casting the Prussian a confused look.

The albino just simply stood from his chair and shrugged, that dammed amused smirk still placed on his lips, taking a few steps forward to lean on the counter before replying, "You're like a mother. It's kind of cute."  
Matthew could literally feel the blood rush to his cheeks and his whole body suddenly grew warm at the comment. What an inconsiderate, rude, insulting thing to say! He was _not_ like a mother!  
Sputtering out a response, he balled his fists, turning his head to the side in an attempt to hide his red cheeks. "_Casse-toi! _What kind of thing to say is that?"

His smirk growing, Gilbert couldn't help but chuckle at the French insult that had slipped out. It seemed that for Matthew the line between anger and embarrassment was quite thin.  
"Oi, no one insults the awesome me!" He replied, waving his arms before moving closer and lugging his arm around the shorter nations shoulder. "I just meant that you care for that bear of yours almost as much as a mother."  
Eyes widening as the other male let his arm fall around him, he felt his blush subside, feeling stupid that he had assumed Prussia meant something else. "Mon Dieu!" He whispered angrily, rolling his eyes. "Well, don't say stuff like that..."

Frowning for a moment, Gilbert studied the smaller males' reaction, briefly confused. After a few seconds, his smile turned into a mischievous one. Letting go of the blonde, he moved so he was bending over slightly, looking at him with glinting eyes.  
"Macht sie eroten?" He mused, his German accent becoming very prominent as he slipped into his mother tongue.  
Not knowing any German, Matthew had no idea what the other had said but just his expression and the tone of his voice were enough to bring his blush back. Biting the inside of his cheek, the Canadian shifted away, wondering why he suddenly felt intimidated. A few minutes ago, the Prussian had been completely different.  
"I... don't know German," he muttered, his violet eyes fixed on the intricate emblem dangling from the other nation's neck as he avoided eye contact. The switch in mood had confused Canada; wasn't Prussia his friend? Why was he trying to embarrass him now?

Gilbert grinned at this, surprised that he had picked up on the subtle change in the tone of his voice. The albino began to move forward, raising his eyebrows teasingly as Matthews back connected with the hard surface of the wall. With a small smirk he caged the blonde in, resting the palms of his hands on the wall behind them.  
"I said..." he leant in close, close enough for his breath to tickle Matthews' ear, "Does that make you blush?"

A small squeak escaped the trapped Canadian, the sudden contact with his wall not something he was expecting. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes, Prussia's breath against his skin felt strange. Before he could nod, a strange noise caused both of the nations to freeze.  
Looking towards the other side of Matthews' kitchen, the pair saw something they would never have dreamed of seeing. Seated comfortably in one of the dining chairs, sat Russia, a pleased smile on his face. He was humming a tune too happy for a nation of his status, twirling his pipe without taking his eyes off of them.

Straightening up, Prussias' eye twitched, the pipe distracting him from everything else. GilBird tried to hide deeper in his pocket, not daring to make a peep.  
Canada stared at Russia, blinking a few times before pushing his glasses back up on his nose, the shock making them slide down a few centimetres.  
The room was suddenly silent except for Ivan's humming and the soft swish of air as he twirled his lead faucet.  
Finally, Gilbert forced himself to say, "What do you want, Russia?" His voice was apprehensive and totally did not show off his awesome self.  
The grinning Russian stopped humming, looking genuinely surprised that someone had addressed him. "Oh, hallo Gilbert, what did you ask? What Russia wants, da?" The tall nation stood, the pipe still dancing past his fingers effortlessly. "I just vanted to ask, vat are you doing to Matvey?"

Opening his mouth to reply, Gilbert was peeved to find that nothing came out. What _was _he doing? He had only just met the blonde and he was already teasing him like family.  
Glancing over to said blonde, Prussia swallowed loudly. The Canadian was staring straight back at him, almost as if he expected an answer. What if he and Russia had a special relationship...? He really did not want to deal with the maniacs' wrath again.

"Lyubimaya, ne volnooysya... If you become one with Russia, all will be forgive, da?" The Russian cocked his head to the side, grinning happily.  
Sucking a deep breath in, Gilberts eyes widen. There was no way in Hell he was joining that Commie bastard... He was about to spew threats off in German when the painful noise of nails against wood filled the room, making Russia's smile fade.  
With a nervous laugh, he ran towards the window, muttering something about never having a day to himself before flinging it open and jumping out. As he disappeared into the white snow, the two nations could hear Belarus calling after him, "Brother! MARRY ME~!"

* * *

**Translation Notes  
**_**Casse-toi! -**_**Shut up! or Fuck off!  
_Macht sie eroten - (I think...) _Do I make you blush?  
_Lyubimaya, ne volnooysya - _Don't worry, darling.**


	4. Son of a Maple

Sighing in relief, Prussia closed his eyes as he shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes he wondered just how much of Russia's insanity came from the vodka... Turning his gaze back to Matthew, the silence felt strange, almost awkward now.  
"Well..." Surprisingly it was the blonde who broke the silence, a faint blush still staining his cheeks as he spoke. "Sorry about that. Russia likes to visit me often. Most of the time he wants me to join him... The two of us combined would be the biggest country in the world." A small laugh escaped him and he looked from the floor to the Prussian, gazing at him from behind his glasses.

Gilbert hid his surprise with a cough. He hadn't realized how large the Canadian actually was. It was strange that he was so invisible to most others. If Matthew grew some confidence, he could easily be a formidable force.  
A small thud turned both of their gazes towards where Matthews's bedroom was located. With a small gasp the Canadian ran down the hall, knowing that it was Kumajiro. He always fell off the bed after he was done napping.

Opening the door gently, Matthew peeked inside and sighed as he saw Kumajiro sprawled out on the floor with a dazed look. "You okay?" He asked softly as he picked up the small bear, holding him against his chest out of habit. What Prussia had said was true; he did care for the polar bear as much as a mother but that was because he was his only friend... aside from Arthur of course.  
The bear looked up at him and blinked. "Who are you?"

Not even bothering to reply, Canada patted the bears head and left his room, turning off the light as he did so. Looking down, he smiled faintly as Kumajiro snuggled into his chest. Rare moments like this made it okay for the bear to forget his name.

Returning to the kitchen, Matthew froze. "W-what..." He stammered, a familiar sinking feeling making itself known in his stomach. Prussia had left; without even saying goodbye.  
Standing in the doorway for a few moments, the Canadian tried to hold back his tears. It seemed silly and immature to be crying over something so trivial. To be brutally honest, he had only known the other nation for a day. What did he expect? That Gilbert would move in?  
Sitting down in one of his chairs, he swallowed through the sudden thickness in his throat. It was just... It had been so _long_ since he had talked to another nation so openly. He didn't want it to end.

A few hot tears rolled down his cheek, falling onto Kumajiros head without warning. The bear looked up, hardly concerned before jumping off Canada's lap and padding off to the living room. Hugging himself, the Canadian rest his head on the table, feeling worse than he had in a long time.

---  
Draping his coat over one of the kitchen tables, Prussia sighed, pressing the cool beer bottle against his forehead. It had been a long day.  
"Gilbert?" He could hear his brother, West, calling from a few rooms down. Of course he had waited up for him.  
"Yeah, you worry wart. I'm home!" He called back, rolling his eyes as he took a long swig of beer.  
Mumbling to himself in German, he made his way to Ludwig's room. Maybe a little brotherly teasing would make him feel better. As he entered, he saw the other blonde sitting in a chair, looking content as he read a book.

"Nice glasses," he remarked, flopping down in the chair nearest to his significantly more built brother. They made his eyes look larger than they really should. The other nation continued to read, completely ignoring his brother except for the question – "Where were you today?"  
Taking a generous swallow of beer, the Prussian glowered at the golden liquid. It was just like West to bring up something he really did not want to talk about. Oh well, on with the torture.

"I was on my way to invade America and got sidetracked..." He shrugged, hoping to keep it simple. Finishing off his beer, he cast a glance to his brother, suddenly realizing that it would be anything but. Germany put his book aside, one eyebrow raised in a fatherly manner.

To begin, he cleared his throat. "You said you were about to... _invade_ America?" He echoed, obviously not pleased with what he was hearing.  
Heaving a dramatic sigh before sitting up, Gilbert rolled his eyes once again. "Yeah, whatever. He's your enemy, right? Blah, blah, blah. You're missing the point that the awesome me is trying to make!" He waved his arms, almost tossing GilBird off his head in the process.

A moment of silence made the Prussians determined expression falter. "And that point would be?" Germany probed, seeming genuinely interested. Now that he thought about it though... he didn't really have a point. He was just in a bad mood.  
Standing up, he sighed once again. "That I'm awesome and... you're not."

Watching as his brother left the room, Ludwig literally face palmed, cursing himself for thinking that anything the Prussian rambled on about would make sense. He could always hope...

* * *

**Sorry that it is alot shorter than last time. T^T  
Hope you enjoy regardless. A little bit of angst from Canada. **


	5. Your Such a Maple Leaf

**A little short again, but there is some cuteness! Yay... I hope it doesn't seem awkward. -worried look-  
I'm just a perfectionist when it comes to my stories. -sighs-  
Oh well, thank you for all the reviews! It makes me happier than Russia with vital regions to invade.**

Wait... what? Just sayin.

Waking up to the sound of birds chirping, Matthew winced, his neck screaming in protest as he sat up straight. Rubbing his eyes, he frowned, groaning tiredly. Why had he slept so horribly? Glancing down at the tabletop his head had been resting on moments ago, he sighed... Oh. Right.  
He had fallen asleep on the table after wallowing in self pity for a few good hours.

Adjusting his glasses, he yawned. "Jeez, feeling sorry for yourself really makes you tired..." He wasn't really talking to anyone, just thinking aloud. Forcing himself to get up, he called for Kumajiro, hoping the bear had managed to find their bed last night.  
To his relief, the polar bear poked its head around the corner, blinking a few times. "Who are you?" It questioned, looking un-amused.

"I'm Canada." The blonde replied, already making his way to the cupboard for the ingredients to make pancakes. His stomach growled, demanding food. As he opened it, he was met with... nothing. No flour, sugar, maple syrup or maple butter to speak of.

"Oh that's right... I have to go shopping today," he sighed, tapping his chin with his hand before leaning his forehead on the counter. "I don't want to go..." He mumbled in dismay. All he wanted to do was sit at home, watch hockey and eat maple ice cream. That was what other countries did when they were sad, right?

--

After bundling Kumajiro and himself up, he made his way to the store, still pouting about last night. He usually wasn't one to dwell on things like this but something about the other nation made him happy when he was around. And when he wasn't... well, it was a reverse effect.  
He continued to think, stocking up on random things he knew he would never eat. Of course he had grabbed the staples – maple syrup, flour, sugar, butter, eggs, maple sugar, maple ice cream and some more maple syrup, but he had also started to put items that weren't on his list into his cart. Things like sushi, wurst, bacon... All things he would never eat.

As he turned the corner, he ran smack into someone and instead of knocking them over, he flew to the floor. He managed to keep his glasses perched on his nose but his tailbone was not enjoying all of the abuse. In fact, it seemed like this had happened to him just yesterday.  
Looking up, he saw the familiar boots, leading to the blue uniform. By the time he reached the other nations face, he already knew who it was. Gilbert.

Immediately he jumped up, ignoring the spot on his lower back that would bruise for sure. "U-uh," he stammered, pushing his glasses up again. "I'm sorry." He wheeled his cart the other way, avoiding the Prussians surprised eyes. A firm grip on his shoulder prevented him from getting very far.

"Wait, Matthew, please." Gilbert pleaded, sounding slightly awkward. He obviously wasn't used to apologizing. He turned the blonde around to face him, his crimson eyes boring into Matthews. Internally the Canadian groaned; he was horrible with apologies. No matter what another nation had done to him, he had to accept them.

"I... I'm sorry," the albino finally said, after much stammering. "I didn't mean to leave without saying goodbye. Really, I didn't. I... you..." He paused, cursing under his breath in German.

Watching the other with a small frown, Canada knew he was blushing. It was one of his faults, to blush at the worst times. He averted his gaze from the Prussian, hoping to escape the pleading eyes. They were not making it easy to be mad at him.  
Before he knew what had happened, Gilbert was dragging him by the hand into an employee's only back room, backing him up against the wall with a determined expression.

Trapped by Gilbert's arms on either side of him, Matthew stared up at the other nation with a bewildered expression, his blush only deepening when he saw the look in his eyes.  
"I-I um," he tried to stammer, hoping that if he accepted the apology, he could go home and forget any of this ever happened.

Before he could get another word out, the Prussian silenced him with his lips. The kiss was fierce, making Matthews' eyes widen. A small sound of surprise was muffled, almost sounding like a moan. After a few seconds, his brain began to function again and his hands shot up, pushing away the albino with a shocked expression.

Gilbert allowed himself to be pushed off, despite the fact that the other nation had no chance with his strength. He didn't look smug or threatening like the Canadian expected him to look. No, he just looked apologetic. They were both breathing heavily, lack of oxygen and the kiss taking their breath away.

"W-What...?" Matthew couldn't even form a sentence, let alone think straight. He felt slightly dizzy so he held out a hand to support himself on the wall. Had Prussia actually just _kissed _him?

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, looking a little sheepish. "It was the only way you would listen. I really am sorry. I like you... a lot." He paused, looking defeated. "I just wanted to show you that."


	6. Oh Maple

**So, basically, yeah. This story is almost over.  
Ahh~ So sad.  
Don't worry, there will be lemons before it ends. Kolkolkol~!**

Somehow Canada had ended up sitting in the albinos' car. After they had been kicked out of the store, he had paid for his groceries apologetically and Gilbert insisted that the least the awesome him could do was give the blonde a ride home.  
So now, he was sitting, Kumajiro on his lap, in silence as the Prussians car weaved in and out of traffic skilfully.

Thinking to himself, Matthew found that his thoughts were lingering on Gilberts strange apology. With a blush, he realized that his lips were still tingling from the unexpected kiss.  
To say the least, he had already decided to forgive the other nation. He just wanted to make him suffer a bit more.

"Sorry about the whole grocery store mess..." Gilbert began, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at the Canadian. "I mean, how was I supposed to know it was off limits to customers? They should have a sign up or something! Only awesome stores have signs..." He trailed off, muttering to himself about how he should sue for misleading advertisement.  
Despite himself, Matthew giggled, amazed at how dense the albino could be sometimes.

Looking back over at the blonde, Gilbert's expression almost seemed shocked that the Canadian had laughed. A few seconds passed before a grin spread onto his face, obvious relief showing in his eyes. He had thought for sure that he would never be forgiven.

The car slowed as they reached Matthews driveway, eventually pulling to a stop in front of his house. Turning the car off, Gilbert shoved the keys in his pocket, running a hand through his almost white hair with a sigh.  
"If you wanted I could help carry your stuff in," he offered, watching as the blonde unbuckled his seatbelt. At the offer, Matthew smiled and nodded, "That would be helpful. Thank you."

The two got out of the Prussians car, each carrying a few bags. Gilbert made sure he grabbed most of the heavy ones. After all, the awesome him could handle it.  
With a sigh, Matthew set his bags down, leaning down so Kumajiro could hop off of his shoulder and onto the counter safely.

Looking over to the other nation, the albino scratched the back of his neck as he stood in the familiar kitchen. He wasn't quite sure if he had been forgiven or not. "So... um," he started, suddenly enthralled with the countertop. "I was just wondering if I was, you know... forgiven?"

Matthew felt himself smile slightly at how embarrassed Gilbert was. It was definitely not like his 'awesome' self. He felt lucky to be seeing a side of the nation not many others had.  
"_Je ne sais pas_..." The blonde mused, hiding his smirk as he tapped the bottom of his chin. What had gotten into him, he didn't know. It was just too fun to tease the Prussian.

Gilbert frowned. He didn't know much (ok, any) French, but the tone of Matthews voice sounded apprehensive. Before he was about to protest, he noticed the slight teasing shine in the blondes violet eyes. With a somewhat threatening look, he cocked his head to the side.

At the others expression, Matthew felt his playful mood falter. Perhaps there was a limit on how much the Prussian should be teased in one day. Shouldn't they come with warning labels or something? Taking a few steps away from the taller nation, Matthew smiled nervously, feeling behind himself in case he ran into something.

Following the Canadian step for step, Gilbert felt his smirk grow. The others expression was just too priceless. Forcing an innocent look in his eyes, he continued to back the blonde up onto the wall, caging him in with arms on either side. "What? Do I have to kiss you again?" He breathed, inches away from Matthews face.

The albino was close enough that his breath was tickling Matthews face; their breaths mixed together, turning his cheeks a pale pink. It was suddenly very hard to think. What was the question again? Ah, fuck it. Stammering, he tried to produce a witty comeback. "I-I... you, what?" Ok, so, not so witty...

Before Matthew could say anything else, Gilbert took advantage of the moment, pressing his lips against the Canadians for the second time that day. This time, however, he didn't pull away. He took the time to savour Matthews taste – maple, with a hint of pine. Internally, he smiled at how unique it was. Just like everything else about the boy he was kissing.

Letting his eyes flutter close, Matthew brought his hands up to tangle in Gilbert's shirt, a fistful of fabric in each of his delicate fists. He could swear that he was about to combust, thanks to the burning of his cheeks but somehow he stayed intact and un-burnt, eventually moving his lips against the Prussians in a dance he didn't think he knew. Suddenly, the other nations tongue ran along his bottom lip, pulling a muffled moan of surprise from him.

Gilbert pulled away, giving each of them a chance to breath, a slightly cocky grin on his lips. "I'll ask again... do you forgive me?" He rest his forehead on Matthews, staring down at the other nation with a quizzical look.  
The Canadian sighed, keeping his eyes closed as he replied, "Of course..."


End file.
